


League

by mhunter10



Series: Geek! Mickey [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort, Dancer Ian, Fluff, Geek Mickey, Kissing, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: Mickey’s not so geeky when it comes to standing up for Ian. He feels brave with him.





	

Mickey’s eyes follow every one of Ian’s movements as he dances on his platform. Sweat drips down his forgotten glass of whiskey in his hand. He’s on a leather couch not too far away, so he has a good view despite the crowd forming. A good song is playing and he can tell it’s one of Ian’s favorites by the way his body moves easily with it.

A man plops down next to him. Actually, he looks like more of a beast. He’s big and bulky and dwarfs Mickey by at least two feet. He’s easily taking up the rest of the couch and not shy about clearly spilling over into Mickey’s side. He feels solid like he should be guarding the place instead. He’s wearing a very expensive suit that he could probably rip out of if he moved a certain way. His hair is slicked back into a ponytail and his jaw is tight, although he looks entranced. Mickey doesn’t even have to follow his eyes to know where he’s looking. He touches his glasses and swallows thickly, trying to focus on Ian again.

“You ever seen a tighter ass than that?” The man says a moment later.

Mickey doesn’t mean to flinch, but the guy’s voice had boomed over the music and startled him out of a particularly dirty fantasy. He doesn’t answer, but the guy looks like he didn’t want one anyway.

“Damn, what I wouldn’t give to pound that raw. Twink looks like he can take it,” he says, licking his lips then nudging Mickey roughly. “But I wouldn’t mind a struggle, you know what I mean?”

Mickey rubs at his arm, feeling annoyance rising quickly. “No,” he deadpans. The guy waves him off.

“Probably dumber than a box of rocks, but he sure is pretty, huh? Don’t need him to talk though, unless he’s saying yes sir,” he laughs at his own joke then doesn’t stop there. “Won’t be saying nothin’ around my dick though!” Another burst of obnoxious laughter.

Mickey’s flustered, touching his glasses and chugging his whiskey down. “I’m sure he’s smarter than half the goons in here. Smart enough to know which ones are which.” He gets it out easily enough, fighting back against the stutter confrontation brings out of him. But surprisingly, he feels in control instead of scared. He’s not just going to sit here and listen to this dumpster talk about Ian like that, but this is also Ian’s job. He doesn’t want to mess that up. The guy makes it even harder.

The guy chuckles, hitting Mickey again. “Got a little crush, don’t you? That’s cute.” He straightens the cuffs on his sleeves and puffs his chest out more, looking more like a dumb animal with every exaggerated twitch. He eyes Mickey now, scanning over his black frames, messy hair and pocket protector. He smiles to himself when Mickey refuses to shrink back.

“I guess everyone’s got dreams, but why don’t you stick to one that might actually come true, okay?” He grins, nodding to himself like that’s the final word on the matter. He points to a man standing awkwardly by the bar in a fedora. “That’s more your speed, huh? Stay in your lane, right?” He gulps down his stupid fruity cocktail, leaning back and getting comfortable.

Ian is totally oblivious to what’s going on. He’s happily shaking his ass and grinding his hips into the floor. His muscles look amazingly shiny in the colorful lights, and the glitter sticking to his chest and thighs makes him seem like an impossible dream. One Mickey had only a few months ago when he would’ve agreed with everything the Hulk was saying next to him. But that definitely wasn’t the case now. Ian had chosen him when he didn’t have to. And he was with him.

“He can have any guy he wants,” Mickey says, still straining against this urge he has to protect. It sounds like an admittance in defeat, but it’s a testimony to just how much it’s a miracle they’re even together. Mickey is finally the lucky one, but Ian tells him he feels lucky too and that’s what he wants to defend.

“Probably has, the little slut,” the guy mumbles with a hint of disgust. “I just want my turn. If I have to flash the cash a little and turn on the charm,” he trails off, shrugging like he’s considering the lengths he’ll go. “All it would take was a slip of my hand if he didn’t come around,” he says more to himself, but certainly not like he was ashamed of speaking like this with someone he didn’t know.

“Shut up.” Mickey’s had enough. He finishes off his whiskey and cracks his knuckles instead of going for his glasses.

The man turns his head to him slowly like he’s not sure he’s ever heard those words together before in his life. He cracks a smile.

“Fucking white knight, huh? That the approach you’re going for?”

Mickey loses his confidence a little, flagging at the suggestion that he would have to trick Ian in some way. “Th-that’s not…I-I-I I’m not–” he hates himself.

“I I I,” the man mocks Mickey, loving that he’s finally getting something on him. He laughs, shakes his head. “He’s just some gold digging cock tease in a gay club.”

Mickey slams his fist down on his thigh, ignoring the pain. A newfound courage washes over him. He looks the man in the eyes, seeing him suddenly look unsure for the first time since he sat down.

“He’s a human being,” Mickey grits sternly.

The man licks his lips, eyes shifting everywhere, daring to fall on Ian before he focuses back on Mickey. “He’s out of your league,” he snarls like a predator mad that he’s been cornered for once.

“And he’s out of your depth!” Mickey points in his face, now standing at eye-level with him.

The man looks at the finger a mere inch from him, then at Mickey. He swallows and throws his hands up, ducking his head slightly; backing down under the pressure of Mickey’s unwavering stance and gaze.

Mickey turns to find Ian not on the platform, but walking over to him with concern on his face and anger in his balled fists. Mickey meets him halfway, sure he’d ruined something for Ian.

“Y-you saw?” Mickey asks, afraid to look at Ian fully and see his disappointment.

Ian nodded, chest still heaving from dancing and probably rage boiling under the surface. He still looked like a vision to Mickey.

Mickey’s shoulders drop and he bows his head, ready for Ian to say those words to turn his reality back into a fantasy again. He let some fool get the best of him, and now it was time to pay for it.

Ian sighed, breath calming down. “Mickey,” he says gently.

Mickey looks up and touches his glasses, biting his lip. Ian looks so beautiful in front of him, he almost feels a swell of happiness. Ian does that to him. His eyeliner is perfect and he’s perfect. And Mickey can’t have someone like him.

“Mickey?” Ian says again, this time cupping his face in his hands.

“I’m s-s-sor–”

Ian is kissing him. He’s kissing him and not breaking up with him and not sending him away and not laughing at him for believing he could have him. He’s kissing him and pulling him closer and it’s wonderful.

“So brave…too good for me,” Ian whispers between kisses, biting at Mickey’s lips and tugging at his hair. “My man,” he sighs, pulling away and resting his forehead against Mickey’s.

Mickey doesn’t know what to say or do. He just feels brave and wanted and loved, and he doesn’t want to interrupt Ian’s soft praises and hard kisses.

Ian pulls away enough to give the guy pouting on the couch two glittery fingers, before kissing Mickey once more right in front of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Set maybe before Bro as well, but after Angles. I may do a continuation of this with their first time? ☺


End file.
